Dengue Remembered

At this time last year, I was recovering from a tropical, mosquito-borne disease on the opposite side of the world. It was not a pretty or fun couple weeks of being sick, but God's grace was all over it. I've never wanted to complain about this experience, and I am not starting now. I was, however, compelled to document it as I recalled the experience in recent days. I was inspired to write a bit of unconventional poetry...well, I think it explains itself.
 

 

Dengue Remembered

              Nausea
              get sick
                rest
              get sick
           head imploding                
                                                          eyes stab like a shish-ka-bob
    joints aching             
                  bones breaking     
                                              heat rises
                   sweat falls
                                      delirium
                     “HAVE FAITH IN GOD” sticks                             
                                                                              like peanut butter to the roof of your mouth.
                                                           arrozcaldo
                                       in the cauldron
             liquids in, liquids out                         
         pills popping
                                            friends stopping
                                                  faces like a whack-a-mole
                                                                         cool rag to the skin
                      and muscle-kneading
(needed more than they know)
           a rocky road to become the specimen.                                                   

Sit.
Up.
short, small breaths
heart racing in my chest
room spins
head hangs, light
try to force a little bite
Open.Wide.
Swallow.
Hard.
‘nother ride, to the ward.
                                                  needles pricking, sticking
                                           into my veins
                  chair glides
    I slide
 in and out of sleep                               
pills popping                                                                 
friends stopping                                                                                       
faces like a whack-a-mole                                         
joints aching                         
bones breaking   
thirst-slaking all day long.
Night has come.
Rear is numb
from bed-inhabiting.
strange sounds from the tube invade my ears;
Attempt to prevent my brain to hear.
awake once again--                                                                     
what hour on the clock?
                                                                                      a pump, a prick, bandage applied.
     always waking,
waking to a nurse by my side.                                                           

--a surge of angst whirls—PEOPLE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD.
daylight comes; type out an email.
sleep
stir
turn
gaze
out my window, a beautiful day.
Forced nutrition:
crackers,
soup;
Sip and nibble
just to please...
liquids in, liquids out.
Rising is slow; steady now, steady.
for all I’m not eating, my body is heavy.
friends become family--measuring liquid gold.
measure, discard.
measure, discard.
days and nights
meld together;
stream of people,
ebb and flow.


moment of calm--
Jesus speaks through a father’s placid voice
He walks on the water, He calms the sea.
tears escape, push their way through
the veil that’s been closed too tight to undo.


Pills still popping
friends still stopping in to say hi,
raise a prayer.
Joints release aching
fever breaking
spots appear
claw at the surface
for what’s deep within;
looks like the circus
is under my skin.

Platelets dropped; need some extra.
people talk
come and go;
faces like a whack-a-mole
here’s the bag
white liquid first.
feels cold;
--my wrist could burst!
long smooth strokes
repeat and knead.
drifting off--
what slurred speech??

Another sun
cold food on a tray.
Red meat I can’t eat
nor do I want.
doc says good, it’s going up.
I’m ready to bathe
it’s been ten days.
I’m flaky
shaky
as we ride,                 
I’ll close my eyes.                                                
sun burns bright                                                                                     
steps falter, I grasp any arm I can find.                                                                                     

Weeks pass and hours are filled with words on pages,
shows on TV I haven’t seen for ages.
coffee-smoothies, mango, ice cream.
second family was formed, thankful prayers are said.
Savory dishes, dogs, bed.
Rest and repeat.


but please,
don’t repeat.

Rachel loves Ruth

For 4 1/2 years, I've been sponsoring a beautiful girl in Rwanda named Ruth.

I've not been the ideal, perfect sponsor, but I am learning a lot about what it means to sponsor someone in another part of the world, whom I've never met. It is one of the most challenging things in my life. I feel restrained. I want to do more for her. But what? I want to just hug her and love on her and give her lots of smiles. But I'm so far away.

I love looking up at Ruth's picture on my wall and trying to imagine what she's doing right now. I think, "is she in school, or helping carry water, gather wood, or playing jump rope with her siblings? What is she wearing today? her pretty pink skirt, like the one in her picture?"

I pray that God keeps Ruth and her family healthy. I pray that he blesses their crops. I pray most of all that she comes to know Jesus personally and love him dearly. I pray that my sponsorship of Ruth can help make that possible. I also pray that God would change me through this process of sponsorship. I want my heart to be more and more like Jesus'. I want to love people without hesitation.

Do you want to help make it possible for a child somewhere in this world to be provided for and to be taught about the living hope possible through Jesus? Maybe you have some money, and have been asking God where He wants you to give it. Maybe you have just a little time, but would love to write to a child, send him stickers and cards, just to make his day.

Don't just think the nice thoughts, cry a couple tears, and never move.

 

You can change a child's life.

 

Do something.

 

Sponsor a child.

 

You can do this a couple ways:

 

1. There's a child on my Compassion blog page that you can sponsor right now.

 

2. You can always go to compassion.com

 

The day I chose to sponsor Ruth, her life changed. You'll never know the joy that brings me unless you sponsor a child. Knowing that I am impacting another person whom I've never met--that's amazing. my heart is being transformed because of it.




follow the link. click your mouse, and change a life. (maybe two).

The non-necessities of American culture

So, since I've been living outside of the US for 9 months now, I have realized there are quite a few things we are so used to using in America that we don't think about the possibility of not having them. Really, though, they are non-essentials.. Here's a list of a few things that I've realized we don't "need" in the way we have come to be dependant on them :
Hot water (for washing dishes, for showering..)

An overhead shower.



what we use here for showering--buckets

 

Air conditioning.

Flushing toilets.

Toilet paper. Mmhmm. old school style. 
Some people in towns near me don't even have bathrooms, running water, or electricity. Now, i realize that this is usually not sanitary, and can cause lots of illnesses, due to using the same river for a bathroom and a shower, but at the same time, people live that way...

during a brown-out.. sitting by candle-light

Some other things people go without here, and make it just fine:

Self-filling and -running clothes washing machine

A washing machine in general

A house free of ants, or cockroaches for that matter

An electric stove

A gas stove.. (it's called coal).

the kitchen at the girls' dorm

matches..? sometimes. If you're out, why not just rub two sticks together...

Now, this is not just a post to tell you how much people 'rough it' here, or how different life is. Let this never become something that just fascinates us, lest we forget the people behind the different tasks that these things imply. Just because we have these things in our homes in America doesn't make us an better, or better off for that matter, than the people living here without them. In fact, recently, I was thinking about how much more complicated and frustrating our lives can be because of owning machines and devices designed to "make our life easier." I mean, when you own a dishwasher, a washing machine and dryer, toilets, showers, stoves, etc. you also have to spend time on their upkeep. Machines break. Then we have to fix them, and that costs money. So yes, our modern "conveniences" can be helpful, but they can also be a big pain. 

People here who don't have those things may spend more time on tasks we have come to dislike. That's not to say, though, that their lives are not enjoyable. I'm sure when students do laundry in the dorms, even if it's not fun for them, they spend a lot of time near each other and probably talk while they're doing their chore. How many people do you talk to while you're doing your laundry? What about washing dishes? Every night, I wash dishes with my housemate, and we talk or sing along with the radio together. It's something simple, but this has built a tighter friendship between the two of us. For probably a month or two, we cooked at home over coals. It took more time, yes, but it made me so much more appreciative of having something to eat, and some way to cook it.

girls doing their laundry together at the dorm

What other things can you think of that we use in America a lot but really could probbaly go without, or at least spend less time on? How about the very thing we're both using right now--computers? How dependant are we on our computers? How much time do you spend on them that you could spend face-to-face getting to know people?

Music in Aisa

Sometimes I wonder if life back in the States will seem really quiet and boring to me when I return.

Here, I think just about everyone loves music, and singing. People often have their radios on, and they will sing karaoke at all hours of the day—even in the early morning. Our houses are really close together, and the walls do not insulate sounds, hardly at all. So it’s really not uncommon for me to have background music provided by the neighbors while I’m eating breakfast at 6am. In fact, I was recently woken up at 5:30 by my neighbor's blaring music. Some days, if we are eating breakfast and everything is really quiet, I feel like something is strange.. then I realize that the music is missing.

Just to give you an idea of the kind of music, there isn’t much of a generational difference when it comes to song choices. Children all the way up to grandparents will listen to the same music together. So it’s not uncommon to hear One Direction, Michael Buble, Guy Sebastian, Simon and Garfunkel, and then back to Brian McKnight, all in a ½ hour time span….recently, it's been "total eclipse of the heart" that has taken over the neighbors karaoke...

Also, there seems to be this phenonemon where the malls will play songs like "heart of worship" by Matt Redman, "Mighty to Save" by hillsong and "Unfailing Love" by Chris Tomlin.. not even kidding. I defninitely have heard those songs playing. It's kind of interesting and refreshing too, to walk through a place that reflects the materialism in this world--a mall--and have a sweet reminder of what is really important, like God's unfailing love for us.

Even though the loud music at all times can sometimes be wearying, I also find it quite enjoyable. You can be at a restaurant, and all at once, the server behind the counter begins singing. Loudly, without reservation, on or off key. It doesn't matter. I like the way people here are not ashamed to be heard, even if they are not the best vocalist. They enjoy singing, so why not?
It's not uncommon to see a group of employees gathered around the karaoke machine in an appliance store or a department store. I think it's partially advertisement to attract customers, but hey, it doesn't hurt to pass the down time at work that way, either!

In the same vein, people like to dance (and make jokes). I can't tell you how many times I have hear people say "thanks for teaching me.." and others jump in with "how to duggie?" One of the most interesting jobs I have seen here is the traffic policeman. I don't know if it's an actual rule, but it sure is a common thing to see the traffic cop dancing in the middle of the intersection as he directs the vehicles where to go. Because this is so popular, there are even videos of this online. Check out this link for an example of a particularly talented cop!
 
Sometimes, places like coffee shops and restaurants also like to play cds of cover songs. Usually the covers are of pop songs, hip-hop songs, or Michael Jackson, but no matter what the sound of the original, they are all done in a "lounge/elevator music" style, very smooth, and low-key. it's kind of funny to hear a girls soft voice slowly singing Kesha's song "tick tock"... "don't stop, make it pop, dj blow my speakers up.."

The joys of living in another country! ;-)

Bored? Here’s something for your amusement.

The other day I was in my house, washing some dishes after breakfast. As I turned around toward our front door, I see a young boy, about 10 yrs old, standing in the doorway of our house. He’s vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. The look on his face tells me that the look on mine must be shock. He stands there, feet planted, and says only one word-- “Bola”—while cupping
his hand together repeatedly. After a few seconds and with a complete mental block, I look over at our dishes and point to a bowl in a questioning manner. He looks at them, then back at me, and once again says “bola.” This time he looks around behind our door and spotting the basketball, picks it up and walks out. It is only then that I realize he is our friend’s son, who often lends that basketball to my housemate.

I promptly facepalm and laugh at myself for a few minutes, not knowing what just happened. Oh, the hilarities of language barriers!

Scene two:

I am sitting in a coffee shop the other day, and happen to
be skyping my friend. She is talking when out of the corner of my eye I see
something outside the window that catches my attention. There are 3 people
walking down the sidewalk—a man and 2 girls. The first girl has a hospital mask
on. The second is carrying an IV bag above head level, with the cord running
from it to… the first girls hand! It’s hooked up! The man is walking behind
them, all three strolling along in no hurry. As I describe this to my friend on
Skype who has noticed my wondering eyes, all of the sudden, I find myself
asking her, “We don’t do that in the States, right?” I am confirmed in this,
and so continue watching. They stop at the corner, and the women with the IV
bag hands it off to the man before turning back and leaving them. They stand at the corner for a minute before finally continuing on. I wish I could have gotten a good picture of it, but the place they stopped obscured my view of the women with the IV in her, and it was a little too far for a camera to get good shot, anyway.

I’m not really sure how one goes about closing a story like that. what does one say? ’Don’t let an IV stop you from living your life’?

Kalilangan

This past weekend was the annual festival of Kalilangan--a celebration to commemorate the founding of the city. It was full of events, and even a carnival with games and rides!

Still, the best part was Monday's parade. it was full of colorful costumes and beautiful dancing; not to mention catchy music!

The city was full of people, and of course the crowd was pushin in on the paraders. So the police had to make sure to hold people back behind a line... our particular police man near us was fun, joking with us as he reminded our friends to move back. So, pulling out my "I'm a foreigner" card, I asked for a picture with him, and he obliged.

I'm in Asia!

Asia is very different from North America, and I'm certain that even that is an understatement. There are many levels of these differences, and having been here only two weeks, I am only able to describe some of the surface level differences.

Traffic

In America, we have many traffic regulations, signs, and stoplights. Most people abide by these regulations, and the consequences are serious if you do not. If there is a lot of traffic, it moves much slower. We must wear seat belts, and stay in our lanes. cutting people off can be very offensive, and start screaming matches. There is a lot of "road rage" because people take things personally when they are driving. Honking generally means you are angry.

In Southeast Asia, traffic works differently. There are lanes and a few traffic lights, but they are more of suggestions. Even when there are large amounts of traffic, it can flow pretty quickly. People in the back seats especially don't have to wear seat belts. People weave in and out quite frequently, and cutting others off is just how you make sure you get where you need to go. Honking is common, and lets others know you are there, and are not stopping for them, but most times it is not a result of anger.

Time

In the States, my life can get pretty hectic. I find myself going from one thing to the next, rushing to make it on time. I worry about being late, because I might miss part of the event, or upset someone.

Here, time is so much more relaxed. If something is supposed to start on the hour, it may start 20 or 30 minutes after the hour, and no one is upset. The other day I had a funny clash with this aspect of the culture. During my break for lunch, a friend took me to run an errand. My next session was scheduled for 130 and my friend assured me we'd be back in time. We got a taxi there, but on the way back, had to hop in a "pedicab" (like a trike, but instead of a motorcycle, it is powered by peddling a bicycle). It was traveling quite slow, and the two of us realized we would not make it back in time. The only thing we could do was laugh and joke about slowing it down because we're too heavy! So I'm learning that I just need to let go enjoy the culture.

Food

I could talk forever about this. I love the food here. It is very different, but most everything I've had is delicious. One of the first things I learned about meals here is that it is not one unless there is rice. Also, they eat with a spoon in their right hand and a fork in their left. The fork is used to push food onto the spoon. Knives are not needed, because everything is prepared in small pieces or is easy enough to pull apart.

I could say much more on this subject, but I'm sure I'll have more stories to tell in the future.

I was going to also put up a video of me eating my first balut, or at least some pictures, but unfortunately they will not currently upload. Hopefully I can get them up soon!

Until next time,